


Run Lizzie Run

by L122YTorch (orphan_account)



Category: The Blacklist (TV)
Genre: F/M, First Kiss, First Time, On the Run
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-17
Updated: 2015-05-18
Packaged: 2018-03-30 21:51:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3953092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/L122YTorch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>- A continuation of where the finale leaves off - Red and Lizzie may be safe from the Cabal, but Agent Keen is compromised in other ways.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The trip was a long one. Their town car glided over streets, highways and dirt roads until it came to an abrupt stop sometime in the middle of the night.

Somehow, Liz managed to fall asleep on Red's shoulder and with a gentle clearing of his throat, he woke her. "Time to go Lizzie," he said, the door opening, letting the muggy night air into the car. They stepped out into the black abyss and after her eyes adjusted, she realized that they were at a private air strip. 

"Let's go," he said, walking towards the plane that waited for them. 

The humid air was stifling, it clung to Keen's lungs and made it hard to breathe. Her throat felt tight - gripped with anxiety - and her stomach turned into a knot. They walked towards the plane in silence, focused on their escape.

It wasn't until her hand gripped the cool railing and her foot took that first step up that she paused. She looked out into the darkness, not even sure of where she was. In a moment she would leave her entire life behind, everything she had known. But what exactly had she known? The majority of her life had been a lie. But still, she couldn't stomach the fact that she was a fugitive. She couldn't handle the thought of her coworkers thinking she was a traitor.

Tears stung at her eyes. 

"Lizzie," Red's voice snapped her from her thoughts. "We must hurry." 

She looked up at him, his frame stuffed into the narrow portal of the airplane door. His presence was consuming, even more so in her position looking up at him. His words were gravel mixed with wine and his gaze was intent. She nodded and continued her ascent up the steps.

It wasn't long after they were seated that the plane took off. The ride went smoothly as time continued to tick by.

Finally, after three hours in the air, she spoke. "Where are we going?" she whispered, her words bouncing off the airplane window that she was staring out of.

"Rome," he answered.

"Why Rome?"

"It's one of the few places the Cabal doesn't have deep roots. Fortunately, they've been unable to infiltrate the papal system." 

She nodded, accepting Red's answer at face value. She didn't feel like thinking, talking or considering the future. An alarming sense of helplessness flooded her. It was a deep-seeded feeling of fear and despair that she had seldom experienced in her life. But here it was…tightening her chest, laboring her breathing, forcing moisture to her eyes and depositing a lump in her throat.

"Lizzie," Red said, but she remained silent, staring out the window. 

She heard the soft ruffle of fabric accompanied by a few footsteps. He sat down in front of her and tried again.

"Lizzie," he careened toward her, his head tilted. "Look at me." 

She didn't want to face him, she didn't want to put her vulnerability on display, but she didn't have much of a choice. 

Slowly she turned towards him. The hand that was holding up her chin fell into her lap and she sat up straight as he leaned in towards her. He was apparently dissatisfied with the distance between them, because he took her hands in his, which made her posture mirror his; crouched forward as if in preparation for some secret.

"You're going to get through this Lizzie. We will clear your name," he assured.

"And then what?" she deadpanned.

"I'm just going to live happily ever after? What about the Cabal? You think they'll let me ride off into the sunset? What about the FBI? You think they'll take me back even if my name is cleared?" her head shook slowly. 

He paused, thinking of how to respond to her, but she kept talking.

"Even when my life was a lie…even when I had no sense of identity…I had my job. My job was everything Red. It was the reason I woke up everyday."

His grip on her hands tightened involuntarily. The broken expression on his features mirrored the pain that she felt. 

"You have me," he said, his voice lowered. "And you have my promise that your name will be cleared, and in the meantime, you will be kept safe."

"Don't make promises you can't keep," she pulled her hands from his and stood. But his right hand snapped up to hold her hip which stopped her from moving.

He still sat hunched over, looking up at Elizabeth Keen, and in that moment saw a mix of emotions flutter across her face. One was surprise…and the other…the other expression looked like lust. 

Red wanted to test his perception of her emotions, so he tightened his right hand on her hip, almost painfully, as he said, "I don't make promises I can't keep," before letting her go. But she couldn't move. 

Arousal exploded inside of her and it scared the shit out of her. Sure, she and Red had a certain repor…but…she never fully took the time to consider him…like that. But his crushing grip on her hip felt like fire and it spread quickly throughout her body. 

Suddenly she felt an urge to kiss his pursed lips, to lower herself onto his body and peel off his layers of expensive clothing. She didn't know if it was a result of the stress she was under, or the safety he offered her or if these feelings had been there the entire time.

She must have stood motionless for too long, because he then stood. In the cramped space between the two seats that faced one another, they were impossibly close. He looked at her with curiosity as she registered the fact that her breasts were brushing against his chest. 

Then in one swift motion, he had stepped to the side and was gone. There was something that resembled a sofa on the left side of the plane and he walked over towards it, unfolding a blanket. After that, he sauntered over to a cabinet and retrieved a pillow. 

She watched him as he created the makeshift bed. "You should get some rest Lizzie," he said finally, motioning towards the sofa. 

Keen tried her best to conceal these newfound feelings that had apparently been growing for a long time, but only just surfaced. She kept her face a stone visage as she nodded and walked over to the couch. 

Once she had laid down, he walked back over to the window seat and plopped down. Looking out the window he uttered a "goodnight Lizzie."

She took in the image of his profile against the breaking dawn outside the jet's window. "Goodnight Raymond," she said, watching his eyebrow arch ever-so-slightly at the use of his proper name. "I doubt I'll sleep, but goodnight."


	2. Chapter 2

The flight lasted an eternity. 

Keen tried to feign peace in order to lure sleep, but it didn't work. She lay on the makeshift bed, her head tilted toward the cushions, away from Red, eyes closed. 

The cabin wasn't expansive, so she could focus through the noise of the engines and locate Red's steady breathing. She hoped it would lure her to sleep, but every time she began to drift into the abyss, images would flash before her. 

She saw Tom's face, felt the heat of his kiss and the vice of his grip around her neck. She saw Red's body twist and contort as the bullet ripped into his flesh. She could feel the sticky slick blood on her hands and smell the gunpowder. She imagined what must have been Ressler's expression when the team got the results back and discovered she was the carrier of the virus. His features flashing red beneath the emergency backup lights - confusion and disappointment in his face. She pictured Cooper's eyes, wet, staring back at her. She felt the jolt of the gun as the bullet left the chamber and headed towards the enemy.

As the plane finally made it's final descent into Rome, Elizabeth Keen wondered if she'd ever sleep again. With a yawn and a stretch, she sat up and looked over at her rescuer. 

Maybe this slow and constant internal torture is what it's like to be Raymond Reddington, she thought.

"We're here," his voice broke the silence once they landed.

She nodded and stood, following Red's form out of the plane.

Sunlight beat down upon the warm summer pavement. The light was difficult to adjust to, and seemed out of place. 

Rain…she wanted it to rain.

"Where will we go?" she asked the back of Red's neck as they walked towards a sleek black town car.

"I have a lovely little place overlooking the river Aniene in Villa Gregoriana," he smiled.

For a moment, a beat of normalcy seemed to spring to life as he spoke. "If you take a walk in the park and climb the right hill, you'll get an incredible view of the Roman Acropolis ruins."

She huffed an empty laugh as they reached the vehicle and an attendant held the door open. 

She slipped inside, sitting next to Red. The plush interior was luxurious black leather that felt feather soft. The small space amplified the smell of cologne that clung to the space around Red. It also intensified the silence that hung between them.

"How can you be talking about views at a time like this?" 

The car began moving forward.

"Your right," he said, head turning towards her. "We're in Rome, we really should focus on the cuisine. In March you can get the most exquisite carciofi alla giudia. The saltiness of the artichokes pairs beautifully with with a glass of white from the Loire Valley."

Unamused, Liz shot him one of her most serious looks, complete with a slight downward head tilt.

Red took a breath, visibly shifting from this lighter conversation to something more serious. He twisted his body a bit, which wasn't easy due to the healing gunshot wound. A visible wince materialized in his face and then vanished. 

"Lizzie," he licked his lips, "I know that you are in a time of change, chaos and confusion. And being you…well, you want to fix everything immediately. But this is hardly a battle that can be fought or won quickly. This mission to clear your name and expose the Cabal is going to take time."

Her head rolled back in exasperation, a sigh escaping from her lips. 

"I feel like I'm going to collapse beneath the weight of it all," she whispered, more to herself than to Red. 

Her head shifted to the side to take a glimpse of Reddington, whose hand moved ever-so-slightly, as if it were about to reach out and take hers. But he stopped himself.

She looked at his murky expression, trying and failing to read it. Then she let her eyes wander down to his hands. They were lean, muscular, with bones and veins chiseled in relief from the stone that was Raymond Reddington. 

Apparently she had been staring a bit too long.

"Lizzie," Red said, equally baffled by Liz's expressions. She looked back up to meet his gaze which felt hot and unrelenting. "At least for a few days, try and forget everything that's gone sour."

"And how do you suppose I should do that?" the words slipped from her lips, with just a touch too much sex in them.

"I'm sure we'll find something to keep you distracted," he smiled, leaned back over to his side of the car, and turned his attention out the window.

**Author's Note:**

> Thoughts?


End file.
